


Briscoe Takes the Bull by the Horns

by Pony Girl (Jackjunkie)



Category: Alias Smith and Jones
Genre: Action/Adventure, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-25
Updated: 2012-11-25
Packaged: 2017-11-19 11:42:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/572887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jackjunkie/pseuds/Pony%20Girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heyes and Curry help their old friend Harry Briscoe out of another jam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Briscoe Takes the Bull by the Horns

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Just You, Me & the Governor #9

The little dog trotted up to the pair of well-worn boots standing on the plank sidewalk and sniffed. It was a good smell, a smell the animal associated somehow with a comforting memory. He wagged his tail and barked a friendly greeting.

The owner of the boots looked down at his feet and smiled. One of the most notorious gunslingers in the history of the west stooped down. A hand that was accustomed to drawing cold metal reached out and patted the soft fur.

“Hello, old fella,” said Kid Curry. “Where’d you come from?”

“Now don’t go gettin’ attached to some stray mutt,” warned a voice from above dog level.

The creature under discussion noticed another pair of scuffed boots next to the first and followed their line upwards to regard their human occupant. This one remained standing, arms crossed against his chest, watching his friend in some misgiving. The dog sensed no bad feelings, however. Uttering a questioning bark, he continued to wag his tail. He tilted his head and panted a bit in excitement, enjoying the attention he was getting from these men.

Curry continued to pat the little dog. “No call to get jumpy, Heyes,” he told his partner. “I’m just sayin’ howdy. Cute little fella, ain’t he?”

“Mm,” Hannibal Heyes answered, unimpressed, “real fetching. For a dog.”

The Kid made a sour face at the pun. He pondered the dog as if it were a puzzle. The little critter gave him an encouraging lick.

“Don’t he look kind of familiar to you?” he asked Heyes.

“Kid,” that gentleman replied, “he’s a dog. He looks like a hundred other dogs. I don’t see anything distinctive about him.”

Suddenly the Kid snapped his fingers as it came to him. “You know who he looks like?” he remembered. “He looks like…”

“King!” a feminine voice called and high-heeled boots tapped across the wooden planks. “King, you bad boy, come back here!”

“Oh, no,” Heyes moaned.

Curry looked up from the delicate pink and white boots past a froth of pink muslin to a flawless expanse of pink and white skin. His glance lingered appreciatively before continuing its upward momentum, taking in the soft gold curls nestled against the creamy throat, and finally encountering the deep blue eyes, shimmering like matched jewels in their exquisite setting. It was a picture designed to dazzle any man.

The Kid was far from dazzled. His admiring look changed to one of consternation. “Violet Delarue!” he exclaimed.

King yipped happily to his owner, showing off the prize he’d found for her. The Kid picked him up and rose slowly upright.

Violet looked beyond her precious pet to the man holding him and recognized him instantly.

“Sir Galahad!” she addressed Curry. Taking notice of his partner, she added, “And Mr. Smith.”

The Kid was holding King out to her so she removed her hand from the arm of the gentleman beside her in order to accept her pet. Indicating her escort, she began an introduction but was cut short.

“Harry Briscoe!” It was Heyes’ turn to exclaim in surprised recognition. Recovering himself, he shook Harry’s hand. “Good to see you again, Harry,” he said.

“Same here, boys,” replied Harry, shaking each one’s hand in turn. “Smith. Jones… er, what did she call you, Jones?”

“Never mind, Harry. Long story,” the Kid quickly responded before his partner could make some cutting remark.

Violet’s silly nickname for the Kid provided an endless source of amusement for Heyes. Just because Curry had helped her out of a small jam once, she had insisted on viewing him as a knight in shining armor. Of course that was before he and Heyes had thwarted her from stealing $50,000 they were attempting to return to the authorities. She hadn’t taken that loss very well. They had parted company not on the best of terms.

She seemed willing to let bygones be bygones now, however.

“I shouldn’t even be on speaking terms with you, Galahad, but I don’t care to have it said that I hold a grudge,” she forgave him graciously. King barked his agreement.

“That’s very generous of you, Miss Delarue,” Heyes interjected since the Kid seemed at a loss for words.

“You and Mr. Briscoe appear to be acquainted,” she observed.

“Yes, Harry’s an old friend,” Heyes confirmed.

“I must say I’m surprised,” the lady went on, “at two Bannerman detectives acting so friendly towards a former member of the Devil’s Hole Gang.”

Harry yanked his cigar out of his mouth in astonishment. “Bannerman detectives!”

“Devil’s Hole Gang!” Heyes and Curry exclaimed with one voice.

Violet contemplated the stunned men. “Maybe I shouldn’t have brought it up,” she said hesitantly. “You all seemed to be on such good terms, though, and dear Harry has put those unfortunate circumstances behind him now…” she trailed off.

“Oh ‘Dear Harry’ has, has he?” said the Kid in a tone that didn’t bode too well for “Dear Harry”.

“Yes, well,” Heyes tried to cover up their surprise. “As detectives, we’re acquainted with all sorts of criminals, Violet. You ought to know that,” he said pointedly.

“That’s right,” Harry went along with the story. “We got to know each other on account of our line of work. In fact, it was these boys that inspired me to mend my ways and turn honest.”

Harry chomped back down on his cigar. That was actually a little too close to the truth for his comfort.

Reminded of the way Harry tended to vacillate back and forth from one side of the law to the other, Heyes wondered what their erstwhile nemesis was doing keeping such apparently close company with a thief, apart from her obvious superficial charms. “We’d love to talk over old times, Harry,” he suggested.

“Sure, boys, sure. Look me up anytime.” Harry waved his cigar expansively.

“Why don’t you go ahead now, Harry dear?” Violet said.

“Now? But you and I…”

“I really must put King down for a nap after all the excitement the naughty little boy has had from running away like that. I’ll just go back to the hotel. You run along.”

“But my dear…” Briscoe began to protest.

“Never argue with a lady, Harry,” the Kid rebuked him. He took Harry’s arm firmly and tipped his hat to Violet. “Ma’am. It was a shock, er, that is, a shockingly fine treat to see you again.”

“Yes indeed, a real pleasure,” Heyes nodded, smiling as he took Harry’s other arm.

“Thank you. I do hope we have a chance to talk more later. Come along, King.” She departed, cuddling her pet close to her bosom.

The three men watched her go. The Kid sighed a bit regretfully, then looked at Briscoe.

“Come on, Harry. Let’s go get a drink.”

*****

“We wouldn’t _have_ you in our gang, Harry,” Curry emphatically informed the detective.

“I don’t suppose George Bannerman would be too quick to hire you two to work for his agency either,” Briscoe pointed out. He seemed to realize belatedly what Curry had said. “Hey, just what do you mean by that?” he asked in a huff.

“Aw, the Kid didn’t mean nuthin’, Harry,” Heyes reassured him, shooting his partner a quelling look. The Kid would never make a diplomat. Heyes turned his attention back to Briscoe.

“Who should understand better than us that you gotta stretch the truth now and again about who you are? Now tell us how you come to be so chummy with Violet Delarue,” he invited.

The three men were settled round a table in a corner of the rather noisy saloon, mugs of beer in front of them. A passerby jostled their table and some of the beer sloshed over.

“Oh me perdones, señores. Forgive me. I will buy you more beer,” said the repentant stranger.

“Don’t worry about it. No harm done,” the Kid assured him.

“No, I insist. Bartender, another pitcher of cerveza for these good hombres,” he called, waving his hand to gain attention and pointing to show where the order was to be brought. He leaned over the table and gave Harry a hearty slap on the back. “Do not worry about the money, amigos. I will make it all back on the bullfight, eh?” He laughed and went on his merry way.

Harry coughed and poured some more beer from the new pitcher one of the saloon girls brought over. He took a fortifying sip.

“Yeah, what’s that all about anyway?” Heyes inquired. “We heard someone else mention a bullfight earlier.”

“How long you boys been in town?” Harry asked.

“Just arrived today,” the Kid informed him.

“That explains you not knowing, then. There’s some kind of big fiesta going on. Some local political deal—exchange of trade, hands across the border and all that. Town’s full of Mexicans, and all kinds of carryings-on, like that bullfight.”

“So that’s it. Must be plenty of betting going on.” Heyes’ eyes roamed the room speculatively. “Probably plenty of good poker games, too.”

“Yeah, you boys could do pretty well here, the way you play,” Harry guessed. “I remember, Heyes, when you helped me expose that crooked casino…”

“Let’s travel down memory lane another time, Harry,” the Kid interrupted him. “Right now I’d still rather hear what’s up with you and our sweet Violet.”

“You do realize she’s a thief, don’t you, Harry?” Heyes asked. He didn’t have a lot of faith in Harry’s abilities as a detective.

“Of course I know she’s a thief. Why do you think I’m shadowing her so close?”

“We don’t know why, Harry. That’s why we’re askin’,” Heyes patiently reiterated their request.

Harry took another sip of his beer, gestured them to lean closer, then revealed in a lowered voice, “I’m working on a case.” He appeared to feel that said it all and he sat back in satisfaction.

Heyes and Curry exchanged an exasperated glance. They could use a bit more information than that.

“What case, Harry?” prompted the Kid.

Harry gave him a wink and a nod and said, “Blackmail, Curry. Blackmail. Now you boys know I can’t go into details. Our clients rely on our confidentiality. But I can tell you that it involves someone in government circles. Yessir.

“That Violet, she’s a cunning little minx, knows how to take advantage of whatever comes her way. She made off with a certain carpetbag. She knew there was cash in it and she got that right enough, along with a little something extra. There were also several documents in it that she’s been using to extort money from our client. My assignment is to get those documents back.

“It’s all very hush hush—we can’t go to the law and risk exposure. So I’ve gotten real friendly with our Miss Delarue so as to have the opportunity to look around for the documents. Once I get them back, she won’t be able to get any more money out of our client.”

“That’s a real interestin’ story, Harry. Sounds just like Violet, too. I got one question, though.”

“What’s that, Heyes?”

“Why is Violet letting you stick around so close? Can’t be just because you told her you were a crook, too.” Heyes couldn’t believe it was for Briscoe’s romantic appeal, though he didn’t voice that opinion.

“No, wouldn’t be nothing in it for her then. I had to tell her I was planning a job. Convinced her I needed her for a partner.”

“What kind of job could you talk her into, Harry?” asked the Kid skeptically.

“Why, we’re planning to rob the banks,” Harry divulged triumphantly.

“You and Violet Delarue are going to pull a bank job?” Now the Kid was more than skeptical; he was out and out incredulous. “You and what army?”

“Wait a minute, Kid. He said banks. Did you say banks?” Heyes asked, not trusting his ears.

“That’s right,” Harry affirmed. “This town’s got two banks. I didn’t think an experienced crook like that girl would pay any mind to me if I approached her about an ordinary bank holdup. I needed something special. So I talked her into robbing both banks at once.”

Harry looked almighty pleased with his plan.

“Harry, you couldn’t rob one bank. How are you gonna manage two?” the Kid argued.

“Kid, I’m not robbing any banks. I just need to make that little miss think we’re robbing them. That’s why I told her I used to ride with the Devil’s Hole Gang. Nobody knows more about robbing banks than Hannibal Heyes.”

“Thanks for the compliment, Harry, but even I never took on two banks at once,” Heyes objected.

“She doesn’t have to know that,” Harry theorized. “It doesn’t matter. I’m bound to find those papers before it ever comes to that and then it’ll be all over.”

“I wish ya luck, Harry,” Heyes said. The Kid held his peace.

“Thanks, Heyes,” said Briscoe. “You boys wouldn’t be willing to lend me a hand on this…”

“No!”

“Out of the question!”

Both partners answered before Harry had time to finish his request.

“We vowed never to tangle with that vixen again,” the Kid averred, “and I aim to keep that vow.”

“We can give you a tip, though, Harry. Check the dog’s carrying case,” offered Heyes.

“Carrying case?”

“It has a secret compartment in the bottom,” Heyes elaborated.

“Well, I’ll be. Now how would you know that?” Harry wondered.

“On account of the $50,000 she was hiding from us there.” Heyes proceeded to tell Harry all about their prior encounter with Violet Delarue.

“Well, boys,” Harry said when the tale was told, “I can’t say I blame you for not wanting to get involved with Violet again.”

“Glad you see it our way, Harry,” Heyes said. “Just take our advice and be real careful around her.”

“Don’t you worry about me. She’d have to get up _prett_ -ty early in the morning to fool Harry Briscoe.”

“Uh-huh. Just don’t count on us bailing you out if she leaves you holding the bag for those bank robberies,” counseled the Kid.

“The Kid’s right,” agreed Heyes. “We’re staying far away from trouble. Our plans here are just to relax, play a little poker, maybe take in that bullfight. We won’t be sorry to see you beat Violet at her own crooked game, though.”

“I’ll drink to that,” said Harry.

They drained their glasses and Harry pushed back his chair and marched out of the saloon like a soldier going into battle.

“I dunno, Heyes,” the Kid mulled it over as he studied Harry’s retreating back, “think he’s a match for her?”

“She’ll eat him for breakfast,” was the unhesitating answer.

“Yeah, that’s what I figure,” agreed the Kid.

*****

“Now that’s what I call a steak,” said the satisfied Curry as he walked away from his thoroughly clean plate the following evening.

Heyes followed him across the restaurant. “That’s generally what a cut of beef like that is called all right.”

Curry paused in the entryway. “Very funny. I was talkin’ about how good it was, as if you didn’t know.”

“Face it, Kid, you never met a steak you didn’t like.”

Before the blond could think of a proper retort, the door opened to let in three new diners. Heyes and Curry stood aside to let them pass and then saw that it was Harry and Violet, accompanied by a flashily dressed, handsome young man.

“Miss Delarue, how nice to see you again,” Heyes said courteously, if mendaciously. “Harry.”

“Boys.”

“Mr. Smith, Mr. Jones. Charmed. You must let me introduce you to Señor Pablo Castillo, the very brave soul who is going to be fighting the bull tomorrow.”

“Gentlemen, I am honored to meet anyone graced with the acquaintance of the Señorita Violet.” He executed an admirable bow.

“Good luck fightin’ that bull,” the Kid said.

The dashing caballero waved his hand in dismissal. “It is nothing. I will face the toro as I have faced so many others, for the honor of Mexico and of my family, and of course for a fair lady.”

“Oh, Pablo, how sweet.” Violet batted her eyes at him. “First things first, though. Shall we go in and find a seat? I am positively famished.”

“I could feast on the beauty of the señorita and never feel hunger,” was the flowery response.

“Heyes, he talks prettier ‘n you do,” Curry muttered in an aside to his friend.

“You two go on in and find a table. I’ll be along directly,” Harry said. “I want a word with the boys here.”

He watched them thread their way through the tables and then turned to Heyes and Curry.

“I found that compartment you boys told me about. Papers weren’t in it, though. I’m running out of time.”

“What’s your schedule for the robberies?” asked Heyes.

“Tomorrow, during the bullfight. The whole town’s gonna be there—we couldn’t ask for a better distraction.”

“How’d Violet latch onto that there matador?” asked the Kid.

“Uh-oh. Kid, you’re not jealous Violet has a new hero, are you?” Heyes queried with a grin.

The Kid just looked at him as if a response were beneath him and waited for Harry’s answer.

“The town’s been paradin’ him out at all the functions to stir up interest and sell more tickets for the bullfight,” Harry informed them. “It’s a break for me she’s been spending so much time with him. Gives me a chance to go through her things. I better find those papers soon, though, or I just may find myself robbing a couple of banks tomorrow.”

“Look on the bright side, Harry,” Heyes comforted him. “Me and the Kid will come visit you in jail.”

“Hm? Oh, jail, yes. Ha, ha. Good one, Heyes.”

“Enjoy your dinner, Harry. Don’t say we didn’t warn ya about that tigress,” said the Kid in farewell. He just hoped he wasn’t watching a condemned man about to eat his last meal. He and Heyes put on their hats and exited the restaurant.

*****

A band of musicians strummed a lively tune to entertain the crowds thronging the street. Heyes flipped a coin into the hat sitting suggestively on the ground at their feet and paused a moment to enjoy the music.

“A great feelin’, isn’t it, Kid, to know we got enough to afford to be generous now and then?” he commented. “Must be something about a festive atmosphere like this that puts folks into such a good mood they seem set on throwing as much of their money away as possible.”

“I almost feel guilty about our poker winnings—they’re just givin’ it away.”

“Not guilty enough to give it back, I hope.”

“No fear o’ that,” Curry grinned. He nudged his friend. “Speakin’ o’ good moods, there’s one cat who looks like he’s just been in the creampot.”

Heyes looked across the street and saw Harry Briscoe lounging in front of his hotel, also listening to the music with a smirk on his face the size of Devil’s Hole. Curious, he and Curry strolled over to the detective to question him.

“Harry, you’re grinnin’ like a possum eatin’ a yellow jacket,” Heyes accused him. “What’s up?”

Harry removed the ever-present cigar from his mouth and said, “Boys, I got every right to grin. I found the papers.” He tapped his jacket pocket significantly. “I can wire Bannerman that I closed the case. I’ll probably get a commendation for this one—maybe even a bonus.”

“That’s real good news, Harry. Me and Heyes are happy for ya.”

“Thanks, Kid. I can thank that bullfighter feller for takin’ up so much of Violet’s time.”

Harry paused for a moment and his smile diminished somewhat as he thought something over. “It is kinda funny, though. I didn’t think she’d let anything get in the way of those bank jobs, but we were supposed to be gettin’ started about now and she doesn’t seem to be anywhere around.”

“That is odd,” the Kid agreed. “That girl loves money more than anything. I didn’t think even a dashing foreign suitor would keep her from a holdup.”

“Does it matter, Harry?” asked Heyes. “You’re well rid of her. You weren’t really going to pull those bank jobs, remember?”

“I know, Heyes, but it don’t sit right leaving any loose ends after a case. Besides, I can’t afford any hint of scandal getting out if she tries to go through with any of this on her own. Think I’ll mosey on over to the bullring and see if she’s hanging around Señor Castillo there.”

“Good luck, Harry,” said the Kid. “We’ll probably be along about showtime. We’ll need to make sure we bring enough money to place a few bets after we pay our admission.”

Harry jabbed his cigar at him in surprise. “You mean you boys haven’t bought tickets yet?”

“We never pay for anything like that in advance, Harry,” Heyes admonished him. “We can’t always be sure we’ll be able to stick around for the payoff.”

“Oh. I get your point. Well, I’ll see you later then.” Harry bit down on his cigar and walked off in the direction of the makeshift bullring.

****

Harry was poking around back of the bullring. He had had no luck in locating Violet, but what was even stranger was that Castillo didn’t seem to be anywhere around either. In fact, some of the town officials and bullfight promoters had seemed a bit concerned about his absence.

Harry’s investigative instincts (he did possess a few of these) were aroused. He had made the rounds, talking to people, asking questions, sticking his nose in, and had come to some conclusions he was certain no one was going to like. His last stop was to visit the bull’s pen itself to make sure Castillo wasn’t there.

He roamed around, looking into every corner. Spotting a latched door and thinking, “Oho, what have we here?” he lost no time in opening it to see. He didn’t like the view. What he saw was a very large bull who immediately swung an eye in his direction.

“Mean looking critter,” Harry muttered, backing swiftly out the way he’d come. In his haste, he neglected to re-latch the door properly. He turned his back and began to walk away.

The bull’s impression of Harry had been no more favorable than Harry’s of him. It was already frustrated at being cooped up and now it had been disturbed. It headed for the source of the disturbance.

The door gave way to the bull’s horns at the first butt. The bull walked through the opening and saw the moving target of Harry’s back. Letting out a bellow, it began to advance, picking up speed.

Harry heard the noise and glanced back over his shoulder in alarm. What he saw transformed alarm into panic. Harry began to run.

*****

Heyes and Curry were heading over to the bullring when they noticed a sudden flurry of commotion. A few people ran past them, one of them yelling a warning, “Bull’s loose!” They looked back to see a figure running from the structure, the bull closing in on his heels.

“Oh, it can’t be,” said Heyes, staring at the running man. “What am I saying, of course it can. Harry!”

The Kid wasted no time in discussing Harry’s fate. He grabbed up a rope slung from a nearby horse and took off after him.

“Ki--, Thaddeus, wait,” Heyes shouted after him. “You can’t lasso that beast. You’ll never hold him.” He ran after the Kid.

*****

Harry ran down the street, the bull in hot pursuit. He ran up on the boardwalk, trying to get into one of the buildings, but everything was shut up tight. Everyone had gone to the bullfight. Every door he tried was locked. He rattled one furiously, trying to force his way in, but it held tight. The bull charged up the boardwalk after him. He leaped down into the street, the bull right behind him.

The Kid, taking advantage of a water trough, a hitching rail, and a hanging sign, climbed up onto the roof overhanging the walkway along the street. He ran nimbly along it and, due to the detective’s unfortunate delay at the locked doors, was able to pull even with him.

The Kid unfurled the rope, twirled it over his head, and let it fly. Heyes forced himself to watch, wishing to close his eyes against the sight of his partner being pulled from that height by a maddened bull and likely dragged or trampled underfoot.

The rope settled neatly over its target: not the bull’s horns, but its prey. The Kid pulled it tight about Harry’s chest and hauled him into the air and out of harm’s way just as the bull would have reached him.

Deprived of the object of its chase, the bull lurched to a halt, circling around in a puzzled manner. By this time, its keepers had caught up to it, and they approached cautiously, soothing it and preparing to take it back to its stall.

Harry lay on the roof, gasping like a landed fish, as the Kid extricated him from the rope.

“Kid,” he said at last when he could catch his breath, “I was never so glad to see someone in all my life.”

“Harry,” came the response, “you gotta stop countin’ on me an’ Heyes to get you outta jams. What are you gonna do when we’re not around?”

“I don’t know, Kid, but I’m just glad today wasn’t the day I had to find out.”

The Kid extended a hand, helped him up, and they walked back to the corner where Heyes was waiting to assist them down off the roof.

Back on solid ground, Harry was still a little shaky.

“What say you buy me a drink, Harry?” Curry suggested.

“Sure, Kid, it’s the least I can do.”

The three began walking to the nearest saloon.

“What were you doing, messing with that bull, Harry?” Heyes asked.

“I wasn’t messing with that bull, I was investigating! I can’t help it if it got loose.”

“Investigating, huh? Did you find out anything?” asked the Kid without much hope.

“I sure did,” Harry said, surprising him. “I found out there’s not going to be any bullfight, because our dashing bullfighter ran off with all the money from the ticket sales, and with Miss Violet Delarue to boot. I bet he wasn’t even a bullfighter at all—probably a fraud all along.”

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing we didn’t buy our tickets in advance,” Heyes observed. “At least we’re not out any money over it. Which can’t be said for the rest of the town. Gonna be a lot of unhappy people here.”

“How do ya like Violet, runnin’ off with that fancy pants con artist?” mused the Kid. “At least ya don’t hafta worry about those bank jobs now, Harry.”

“I guess so. He must have had a load of money to tempt her away from our robbery plan, though. I just can’t figure her out. Women!” Harry said, mystified.

The three stepped up to the saloon’s batwing doors.

“You got that right, Harry,” said Heyes. “There’s no figuring them out. I guess maybe Violet just reckoned a bullfighter in the hand was worth two banks and a Briscoe.”

THE END


End file.
